You had One Job
Someone left Gorram grounds in the ruttin’ coffee pot, still warm, probably left on all night. How hard of a concept was it? You make coffee, you clean out the ruttin’ grinds, you don’t leave it for the morning person who just wants to fly the Gāisǐ de ship. Bunch of inconsiderate Zhùchóng… Not ruttin today. The effects of the mach had long since burned off, sleep deprivation adding an extra edge to her already irritable disposition, and the gorram drogs yelping and whining for breakfast did nothing to offset the way her head pounded. Ruttin’ drogs never shut up, and all she wanted was a damn cup of coffee, was everyone on the ship so ruttin' incompetant that they didn’t know how to rinse out a damn percolator? The hell! The metal carafe was hurled across the galley before she stormed back up the steps to the cockpit, grumbling about the crew, the passengers, and laziness in general. None of them would last in the Gorram academy. Stifling a yawn, she snarled her lip seeing the pressurization gage light up once again. Long shot that the ruttin’ engineer would be awake, she was certain everyone on the damn ship thought they had a 9-5 shift with an hour for lunch and coffee breaks. They could make their own Gorram coffee. BEEUP…BEEUP…BEEUP…BEEUP… The rut is that NOW?She picked up the mic and switched to the engine room. “I don’t know what the hell you’re doing in there, but whatever it is you best lock it up.” She warned, but received no answer. BEEUP…BEEUP…BEEUP…BEEUP… Her thumb depressed the button again and she spoke louder into the mic, as if that would bring better results. “Engineer - Status report!” Shit, shit shit… This was no time not to be amped up. Riley pounded a fist on the dash, shattering one of the lights before trying one last time. “ENGINEER! STATUS REPORT!” “Engine room! Chavez!” the Engineer shouted above the alarms. “Fuel leak…reactor deck! Assessing now!” BEEUP…BEEUP…BEEUP…BEEUP… “What the rut caused a gorram fuel leak!” The pilot shot back. “Thorne?” The captain had cued the mic in the galley. “Fuel Leak, Losing pressure, buttoning her up now.” The pilot hastily replied. “What’s it look like?” BEEUP…BEEUP…BEEUP…BEEUP… “Like a ruttin’ Fuel leak! Ask the gorram engineer you hired, did you check her qualifications, or was it just based on tits and ass? Where’s the gorram crew chief?” Keller didn’t respond, his concern now was initiating safety protocol, if there was a fuel leak and any kind of contamination -- it could affect the drogs! And the rest of the crew and passengers. They all needed to be moved to safety. And Riley was right, where was the gorram crew chief? While Keller went to grab Gil and his sister, after some quick deliberation over what to save first, Riley stormed down from the cockpit. With the huge drop off from the small amount of mach, Riley’s adrenaline levels were all over the map. “WHERE THE RUT IS MY CREW CHIEF!” She yelled above the din, tearing open the door to the punk’s cabin. Finding nothing inside but a whelping box and getting snapped at by a mother drog, Riley slammed the door shut as she remembered the crew chief was moved when the damn drog spawned other drog’s. “JAT!” She pounded on the door, only to find he’s not in the state room either. “SONUVABITCH. I will skin that Lǎnsǎn de shǐalive!” “Lieutenant?” The young punk tentatively called out already braced. He’d padded down from -- who knows where, barefoot and in a pair of light pink sweatpants that barely came down to his calves, and nothing else. BEEUP…BEEUP…BEEUP…BEEUP… Riley spun on her heels to face the crew chief. “Where the hell have you been?” She spat in his direction. “Shuttle one, Lieutenant.” Vas answered simply figure the most direct answer without the fluff would be best. “Shuttle one --” Riley took a moment to connect the dots, she hadn’t actually expected an answer from him, and the answer she got did nothing to calm the rage. “Well, crew chief, while you were off getting your dick wet, your ruttin’ engineer fucked up the whole ship. Great job keeping an eye on things. Remind me again what we pay you for?” “S-sorry Lieutenant I’ll have is squared ASAP.” Vas straightened. He really didn’t have much of a defense and it wasn’t in him to give an excuse. “SORRY DOESN’T FIX MY GORRAM SHIP. DOES IT?” The lieutenant shouted, stepping in close, nose to nose with the boy. She was madder than a bag full of angry hornets, and the punk was the nearest target. Vas remain stiff as Riley dressed him down. “No, Lieutenant.” “You have ONE Ruttin’ job on this ship, and that’s to take care of this ruttin’ ship! This shit didn’t happen when I was in charge of the crew!. So if you’re not too busy chasing companion tail get your ass moving to initiate fuel leak protocol. Unless you want to fuck that too?” “No, Lieutenant. I -- “ Vas started. “You what?” she snapped, interrupting him mid sentence. The pilot didn't have time for any of his excuses. “ -- fucked up. It won’t happen again, Lieutenant.” The punk aid stiffly taking his comeuppance, swallowing the lump in his throat. “You’re gorram right it won’t, " she warned, shoving past the boy. "You're gorram right."